


to choose love

by gothzabini (girl412)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Daphne Greengrass POV, Established Relationship, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fashion & Couture, Getting Together, I guess? I'm bad @ tagging, M/M, Mentions of Eighth Year, POC Harry Potter, POC Pansy Parkinson, POC Theodore Nott, namely fake Theo/Daphne, the Drarry is, there's no such thing as a heterosexual slytherin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 07:09:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15334560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl412/pseuds/gothzabini
Summary: Daphne and Theo have been each others' beards for a while, but they can't quite manage living a lie anymore.





	to choose love

**Author's Note:**

> HI I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS  
> I HOPE YOU HAVE AS MUCH FUN READING IT <3

If Daphne was asked later on what led to everything changing, she would have to say it was the fashion show. She and Theo had been doing fine before that. Sure, it’d been living a lie, but it was exactly the sort of pristine pretence that pureblood society loved to lap up. They’d looked good together, they both knew that. They were the sort of couple that would’ve featured in society mags and lifestyle mags; Theo in that flower patterned shirt and Daphne in her sundress with the summer sky as a backdrop. Everyone would idly leaf through the pages and envy the stability and self-assurance that the two of them seemed to radiate. They looked established, Daphne knew. That was what they’d needed, to get their parents off their backs. 

 

It wasn’t easy being homosexual and being a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. That was non-debatable and objective. It was a fact. You could either ignore it, or be painfully aware of it, but it was a truth, albeit a painful one. Daphne and Theo were the poster couple for fake heterosexual allure and they both knew it. Post-war society was messy enough to navigate through without having to deal with all this extra baggage –being Slytherins, being gay, having parents who would cut you out of the family vaults without a second thought, visiting mind healers twice a week. Despite the lack of romantic compatibility (or maybe even because of it) Daphne and Theo worked well as a team, managing to live a good life in their shared apartment. Something about your beard being your best friend made it a little more tolerable.

 

Hell, it might’ve even been sustainable, if not for that fateful night. 

 

~ * ~ 

 

Daphne and Theo were sitting in the seats that Pansy and Blaise had gotten reserved for their closest friends. Daphne had been placed next to Draco and Potter, and Theo was to her right, sitting next to a very excited and glitter-covered Luna Lovegood. Daphne was very sure that she was supposed to be sitting next to either Draco or Potter, but thanks to the fact that Draco had seated himself on his boyfriend’s lap, she would never know which one of them had actually been assigned the seat next to her. 

 

It was no secret that after the war, Pansy, Blaise and Draco had started their own fashion company. Draco’s work with charms and potions as well as his eye for detail meant that he designed most of their outfits and made most of the make-up from scratch. Unfortunately, the war had rid him of all his love for extravagant performances, leaving Pansy and Blaise to model most designs and palettes. They were also the backbone of the entire thing – Pansy was really good at advertisement and Blaise had a head for finances that made Draco’s accounting skills look childlike. The three of them were a good team and it had been inevitable that they would succeed, right from the early days of the venture.

 

“You should be up there,” Daphne said to Draco anyway, even though she knew and respected his reasons. 

 

Draco turned to face her and smiled at her, casually and easily. He’d always given off tension from trying to compress his multifaceted personality into the cold and composed person his parents had tried to bring up, but ever since he’d gotten together with Gryffindor’s golden boy, he’d been more at ease with himself than she’d ever seen him, in the entirety of their lives. 

 

“I’m up _here_ ,” he said snootily, patting Potter’s thigh with his right hand. Potter had his hands around Draco’s waist, and he was leaning against Draco, his face pressed against the curve of his spine. She’d never realised that Potter was bi until this recent development, but remembering all the smouldering glares he’d shot Draco she wondered if she should’ve suspected. Straight boys didn’t look at each other like that, with open hatred as well as desire. Well, kudos to them, she thought, surprised at how bitter it felt. Two more people who knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to get it. 

 

“Show’s about to begin,” Theo said, nudging Daphne, who nudged Potter. The lights in the room were dimming, and the five of them – Daphne and her fake boyfriend, Draco and his real boyfriend, Luna sans any type of boyfriend – leaned forward in eager anticipation.

 

It was two hours they would never forget.

 

If Daphne was asked later to mention what it was about the programme that took her breath away, she wouldn’t have been able to say. Every design and every model was gorgeous, right from Cho Chang in the soft pink linen and sunset make-up, to Tracey in red high heel boots, leather and smoky make-up, Gabrielle in a high neck dress which looked like the ocean, Greg in a well-fitted suit (and Merlin, had that been a surprise) and a number of other people Daphne had never seen before wearing a number of things that made her head spin. But of course, the focus of the evening was the last act, namely Blaise Zabini, walking in with 10-inch long heeled boots, and Pansy Parkinson, who happened to be leaning on his arm. Pansy, who looked so stunning that Daphne forgot to breathe.

 

Blaise’s dark skin made the greys and pinks and blues and purples embroidered on his suit look striking, but more than that, the make-up they’d assigned him was specifically chosen to make his skin glow. Daphne had never understood highlights the way Astoria did, but she could see how the make-up that’d been put on Blaise made his face look sculpted and celestial. A glance at Theo confirmed that he was slack-jawed. She hadn’t expected anything else. 

 

Pansy looked ethereal. Instead of the usual gothic vibe that she went for, she’d opted for a soft look tonight, dressed in pastels and denim and with baby blue flowers that shone slightly woven into her hair. She’d always complained about how narrow her eyelids were when they were younger and they’d done each other’s make-up. Daphne remembered how Pansy’d laughed it off and called it “South East Asian girl problems” but looking at her now, at the bold electric shade of eyeliner, Daphne couldn’t think of anything less likely to be considered a problem. The shape of Pansy’s eyes looked beautiful and called for attention, just like the angles of her face and the nose that meant that she’d never be conventionally attractive. Pansy wasn’t conventionally attractive. She was her own brand of alluring and Daphne was a sucker for it.

 

Theo knocked her knees with his, and she realised that she’d been staring too obviously. He gave her a small smile, and she smiled back. They understood each other perfectly in that minute –the moment of attraction, like a spark that nothing could put out, never smothered, merely hidden. They were so busy sharing their secret smile that they didn’t notice Draco and Potter’s shrewd glance, the way the two men were looking at them with something akin to pity. 

 

~ * ~ 

 

“At the risk of sounding really gay,” Theo began once they got back to the flat, but Daphne cut him off.

 

“Save it,” she said, smiling at him kindly. “I was sitting next to you, I saw how you looked at Blaise.” 

 

The look that Theo shot her was full of anguish and reminded her of the melodramatic way he’d confessed to her in fifth year that he was gay and had unrequited feelings for Draco. It made her remember that she needed to be more sensitive to him, to be the best friend he needed. 

 

She took his hand and shepherded him to the kitchen. “Vodka to celebrate our gay revelations?” she asked. They both knew she hated vodka as much as he loved it.

 

Theo shrugged. “I’m not over Blaise,” he said. “I just needed to say that.” 

 

“Since it’s honesty hour,” Daphne said, mixing him a vodka and peach juice drink that every human on the planet bar Theo probably found despicable, “I’m very attracted to Pansy. Could probably get an orgasm just by looking at her.” 

 

Theo choked. “That’s me, with Blaise. It’s too much, Daph.” 

 

“That it is,” she agreed. “Mum and dad would _freak_.” 

 

Theo laughed. “I can imagine it. ‘ _Theodore, this is Nott how we brought you up._ ’ Get it? because my last name is Nott?” 

 

Daphne was too busy laughing to respond at first, but eventually she handed him his (disgusting) drink and got out some grape soda for herself. Putting on her best Mrs. Greengrass voice, she said, “ _Daphne darling, I know the grass is always greener on the other side, but we didn’t intend for you to act in such a bovine manner._ ” She was rewarded for her efforts by Theo laughing so hard that he nearly spilt his drink on his shirt.

 

“We should go to the studio tomorrow,” Theo said, after taking a moment to compose himself.

 

“Draco, Pansy and Blaise’s studio apartment?” Daphne asked, sceptically. “Might be better to write them fanmail. ‘ _Hi, we’re gay and in the closet but two-thirds of your trio make us want to come out_.’ ” 

 

“I would approve, but Draco’s self-esteem might just take a blow,” Theo said, and she wasn’t sure whether he was serious, joking, or merely attempting to sneak in more fellatio innuendo. She didn’t want to ask. 

 

“So, what? We visit them and what do we do?” 

 

“We say that we loved yesterday’s show. We get Draco to get out their best china and make us some tea. We sit there in their fancy chairs and try to act heterosexual with limited success, but it’s okay because they’re our friends and they know us. We discuss the weather like old people, and ask after their parents. Well, we ask after Blaise’s mother, because we know that Pansy’s cut all ties with her family and we don’t know what’s happening with Draco, though I’m certain Narcissa wouldn’t abandon him without a fight. We pat one of Pansy’s seven billion cats and ask Blaise about his weird friendship with Lovegood.” Theo smiled sympathetically at Daphne. “We’ll work something out. We’ve been friends with all of them ever since we were kids. What could go wrong?”

 

~ * ~ 

 

Apparently, a lot could go wrong. Starting by the fact that Harry sodding Potter opened the door. 

 

“If you’re here for the Slytherin gang,” he said as a welcome, “now may not be the best time. They’re all post-hangover and a bit of a mess.” 

 

“Harry, you mean little fuck,” Draco said, arriving out of nowhere and clumsily slinging an arm around Potter. “Slytherins stick together, my little snake friends are welcome anytime. Also me, Pans and Blaise are never a mess, admit it.” 

 

Unfortunately, Daphne and Theo suspected that Potter may have been correct in his assessment. Draco was clad in a Weasley sweater –and not just any Weasley sweater, but one that probably used to belong to Ginny, of all people. Ever since the disastrous break-up between Pansy and Ginny, the youngest Weasley’s name was carefully avoided in conversation. Draco was the last person to intentionally upset his best friend. He must’ve been really out of it, to wear that. Furthermore, his nails were painted _maroon_ (Draco hated maroon, it was his least favourite colour.) And right when Daphne thought that things couldn’t get any worse, she noticed that he was wearing dark blue joggers that looked like they were five sizes too big for him, and had the number 69 printed above his right hipbone. 

 

“Malfoy, I’m only saying this because I love you, but what the fuck are you wearing?” Theo asked.

 

“Oh, that’s sweet,” Draco said, smirking. He looked ridiculously sober, which was comical, given the outfit that accompanied the expression. “We were playing dare and dare last night. It was either wear this, or get my ears pierced by Pansy. Pans might be my favourite person on the planet, but I do _not_ trust her with sharp objects.” 

 

“I was joking about the knife play, you bastard!” Pansy’s voice echoed from somewhere inside the studio apartment. 

 

“I’m not a bastard, my family’s a part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!” Draco yelled back.

 

“You’re a Sacred Twenty Gay!” 

 

“Like you aren’t!” 

 

Daphne and Theo exchanged a look. Pansy and Draco bickering never got boring. 

 

Harry shot a pained glance at nobody in particular. “We haven’t invited you in, so er. Make yourself welcome, I suppose.” He stepped aside, and Theo and Daphne entered the apartment.

 

“You still play dare and dare?” Theo said to Draco as he walked past him.

 

“Oh yeah, truths aren’t much fun in small groups,” Draco said. “I haven’t played truth and dare the way it’s meant to be played since Eighth year.” 

 

Daphne remembered the games Draco was referring to. She remembered one particular incident with more clarity than the others; eighth year in the Slytherin common room, Pansy in those fishnets with that very black lipstick and very silver jewellery. If Daphne had ever doubted her attraction to girls, that was probably the moment that her sexuality was confirmed, undeniable. They’d been playing truth or dare, but the childhood version of it. Something about surviving a war made them all crave comfort desperately, and asking people about anal sex like they’d done in sixth year would definitely disturb the fragile sense of peace they’d feel when it was just them. Just the snakes in the common room that technically wasn’t theirs anymore, but nobody was going to stop them.

Someone – Daphne thinks it was Blaise –had dared Pansy to play some Muggle music and lip sync like she was in a music video. The whole process would’ve been very unoriginal if it’d been assigned to anyone except Pansy. She’d put on Material Girl by Madonna, and with one look at Draco, who’d cursed under his breath and gotten to his feet, muttering under his breath about “ _why am I even friends with you, Pansy Cordelia_ ,” he’d let her take his hands and dance giddily with him, while she sang the lyrics incredibly off-key. It was easily the hottest thing that night, but it was also the most hilarious.

Daphne knew she would never forget the way Pansy had leant against Draco and, looking at him like she meant it, yelled something about boys who saved their pennies and cold hard cash and how she basically loved her men only for their money. Draco had taken it as a compliment, dancing with Pansy like it was club night and they were in love even though all the Slytherins of their year already knew or suspected that he was as gay as they came. Daphne remembered, with a sudden feeling of giddiness, how she’d been jealous of Draco, for being allowed to press his body against Pansy’s like that, for being close enough to Pansy for her to make sugar daddy jokes about him.

Dare and dare was something Draco and Astoria had made up, to the best of everyone’s knowledge. It operated on the same premises as truth or dare except there were no truths, and the unfortunate person had to choose one dare out of the two they were given. It was a riot when they played, and explained the gloriously pitiful state they found the apartment and its residents in. 

 

Pansy and Blaise were both sitting on the floor by the dinner table, looking like they’d been at a sleepover during which they hadn’t actually slept. Daphne and Theo both knew that the team often went to get celebratory drinks after a good show, and they suspected that they were seeing the afterparty of the afterparty. Blaise was wearing a pyjama top that Daphne was pretty sure belonged to Draco, and Pansy was wearing a crop top that hung off her frame haphazardly, the strap of her neon orange bra showing clearly. Both of them were wearing joggers – Blaise’s were Slytherin green and hung off his hips loosely, while Pansy’s were purple and snug, clearly outlining the shape of her arse and the edges of her hips. 

 

“Fuck,” Theo murmured into Daphne’s ear, and she hummed in agreement. They were both fucked.

 

It was one thing to admire someone when they were all decked out in the latest designs, catwalking on a stage with make-up on. It was another thing to admire someone when they were in their natural state, in sleepwear. It was suddenly something personal. This, this burning feeling, no longer felt like fleeting attraction. It felt like _love_. 

 

“Daph!” Pansy screamed, getting up shakily and hugging the other Slytherin girl. She smelled like vodka but Daphne didn’t care. “You won’t believe what happened last night, it was so amazing, we got back home and someone’d left a ton of red roses by the doorstep, also my cat Crisbella is pregnant now and Blaise and I apparently won best dressed couple at the Muggle thing we were going to and – ”

 

“Let the girl breathe, for Salazar’s sake,” Draco cut in. They all knew how Pansy could gush non-stop when she was excited. When you drew parallels to how Draco ranted non-stop when he was angry, it was highly understandable why they were considered the dramatic duo of their year. 

 

“I don’t mind,” Daphne said, and she really didn’t. Pansy’s face lit up at the admission, and she took one of Daphne’s hands, undoubtedly ready to lead her to one of the twelve cats and tell her the latest. 

 

Meanwhile, as Daphne watched subtly, Blaise was leaning towards Theo, saying softly, “You look good enough to fuck.” Theo’s eyes, which hadn’t looked away from Blaise’s legs in the joggers, widened. He looked up, his eyes meeting Blaise’s eyes.

 

“Theo,” Daphne whispered. He looked at her, over Blaise’s shoulder, and smiled when she shot him a thumbs up.

 

“Your pick-up lines need work,” Theo said, softly, putting one of his hands on Blaise’s cheek. “Luckily for you, I’m willing to forgive you for that.” 

 

“Fucking finally,” Pansy murmured, tugging Daphne’s hand, which she was still holding. “I’ve got that minty ice-cream you like so much, in my refrideratre.” 

“Refrigerator,” Potter corrected, sounding amused. He and Draco were curled up on Blaise’s favourite sofa in a manner that explained why some people had taken to calling sofas loveseats.

“Close enough,” Pansy responded, walking out of the room with Daphne.

~ * ~ 

Pansy was singing ‘Mamma Mia’ as she scooped the ice-cream into a bowl. Maybe that was what made Daphne ask the question that she’d been dying to ask ever since the last time Pansy’d gone out to a club to pull. 

“Are you over Ginny?” 

Pansy stopped singing, holding the spoon like it was an anchor to reality. “Funny you should ask,” she said softly, passing the bowl of ice-cream to Daphne and giving her the spoon, right before putting the ice-cream back in the fridge. She walked over to one of the kitchen counters and seated herself there, her legs dangling over. The joggers paired with the crop top made her look gorgeous in a messy way. She hadn’t combed her hair and her make-up was smeared and all Daphne wanted to do was kiss her. 

“In a manner of speaking, I suppose,” Pansy said. Her eyes were looking at Daphne like she was thinking of something serious, trying to work something out. “I mean, I knew it would never work.” 

“Why not?” Daphne asked, surprised by the urgency in her voice. 

The look in Pansy’s eyes was almost sympathetic. It was difficult for Daphne to remember, in that moment of vulnerability and tenderness, how sharp Pansy could be, how bitchy. How much like knives and broken glass. Right then, she was all softness.

“We were both too stubborn,” Pansy said with a laugh. “We both wanted different things. We were both very ambitious and we looked at our ambitions in different ways. Neither of us ever really saw the other’s point of view. It’s for the best, but I think there was a point where I thought I loved her.” 

“You didn’t love her?” Daphne said without thinking.

“Maybe I did,” Pansy said, and she looked so miserable that Daphne just wanted to hold her in her arms forever. “I don’t know. It was all too fleeting. It felt eternal, but everything changed quickly.” 

“I’m sorry,” Daphne said.

“I’m not,” Pansy responded, getting off the counter. Daphne tried not to stare at her legs, in the joggers, and failed. Pansy had beautifully shaped thighs and the sort of arse that Daphne wouldn’t have believed could exist, had she not seen it. Not that she’d seen it, per say. Pansy never dressed to hide the shape of her body, though, and Daphne wondered what that’d be like, to be comfortable enough in your skin to flaunt it. But more than that, she wondered what it’d be like, knowing that everyone who looked at you for longer than a millisecond was probably checking you out. It made her feel uncomfortable, like she was being predatory. 

“You’re blushing,” Pansy said, delightedly. “How cute. What are you thinking?” 

“I want to kiss you,” Daphne blurted. Pansy stared at her for a minute, looking shocked. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t this.

Suddenly, her expression grew colder, shuttering into a mask that was unreadable. “I’m afraid we can’t do that,” she said coldly. “I want something that’s real, with someone who isn’t scared to be with me.” 

With those words, she walked out of the kitchen, not looking back. Daphne was too busy trying to deal with the sinking feeling of guilt and the bowl of melting ice-cream that she didn’t have the appetite to eat to pay much attention to the way her legs looked when she walked at that pace. It wasn’t her place to look at Pansy’s arse in joggers. 

~ * ~ 

Around five minutes after Pansy walked out, Draco walked in. He looked absolutely livid. 

“Greengrass, I don’t know what you said to Pansy, but whatever it was, it really upset her. She’s gone for a walk with Harry to talk it out. Something to do with their shared ex-girlfriend, she said. Did you bring up Ginevra?” He sounded very angry. Daphne knew that he had every right to sound like that.

Daphne didn’t look up to watch Draco walk towards her, but she heard his soft gasp the moment he saw that she was crying into her bowl of ice-cream. 

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said gently, taking the bowl from her hands and placing it on the table, and gently enveloping her in a hug. “What happened?” 

“I asked if she was over Ginny,” Daphne murmured. “I wanted to kiss her.” 

Draco was massaging patterns down her back. “Does she know you mean it? I get the feeling that she thinks you’re just fooling around, asking her.” 

“I don’t know what she thinks,” Daphne sid softly, her arms bracketing Draco in a delayed response. “I’m serious about her. I’ve liked her since Eighth year, fuck, maybe even before that.” 

“Tell her,” Draco said. “And, if it means something to you, be prepared to risk things.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, moving away, looking at him.

“Me and Harry,” Draco said softly. “Do you think any of it was easy?”

Daphne shook her head.

“Yeah, well, it was worth it,” he told her. “I love him, I don’t regret anything.” 

“You’re saying that I should be open about this,” Daphne said. 

“Of course. Pansy takes a lot of pride in who she is,” Draco said. “She doesn’t want to be your dirty little secret, and she’s not looking for a fling or an easy fuck from you. She’s got clubs full of pretty strangers for that. You’re her friend, and she cares about you, a lot. She’s told me that. Tell her the truth, the complete truth. Things will work out.” 

“Thanks, Draco,” she said.

He gave her a small smile. “Could you convince Theo to do the same? To talk to Blaise?” 

“I could try. Any reason why?” 

“Blaise has liked him since sixth year,” Draco said, softly. “He’s convinced that the most he’ll ever get from Theo is some sort of Friends with Benefits arrangement.” 

“That’s not true,” Daphne said, equally softly. “Theo would probably love being Blaise’s boyfriend.” 

“It’s okay to be scared,” Draco said. “I know what it’s like. But you have to choose love.” 

“I’ll talk to Theo,” Daphne said. “Just, whenever Pansy comes back from her walk, could you tell her that I’m sorry?” 

Draco nodded. “Will do.” 

Daphne walked out of the kitchen, and walked into Theo, who was on his way into the kitchen. 

“There you are. We’ve got a lot to discuss. Apparate us home?” she asked. 

~ * ~ 

“I need more vodka,” Theo said. “So you’re saying Draco gave you a pep talk?” 

“Yeah,” Daphne said. She dug through her closet, searching for the joggers Astoria had embroidered on after Daphne had come out to her. She’d embroidered the word “LESBIAN” on them, on the seat of the joggers. It had been a joke, and neither of them had expected Daphne to ever wear it.

“What’d he say?” 

“That you and I should choose love,” Daphne said, finding it in a pile of other gay merchandise various friends had brought her. It made her tear up a little –the realisation that whether or not her parents would support her, she would always have her friends. “That, if we really care about Pansy and Blaise, we would risk everything for them.” 

“Draco’s dating a Gryffindor, I suspect he’s become like one himself,” Theo said, but the look in his eyes was contemplative. “It’s so frightening, Daph.” 

“I know, Theo,” she said. “I know. But it’s the right thing to do.” 

“You’re right,” Theo said. “Draco’s right. I can’t face Blaise yet, I’m not ready. But you should go, get your girl.” 

“I’m going to,” Daphne said, changing into a crop top with the Slytherin logo and into the LESBIAN joggers. “But what happened between you and Blaise?” 

“Nothing big,” Theo attempted to say reassuringly, but the look on his face had Daphne worried. “It’s just, he casually mentioned that I’m white-passing, and I’m really not. I know that I’m only half Korean, but other than having pale skin, nothing about me is white. Look at my nose, my mouth, my eyes. I’m not white passing in the slightest.” 

“Shit,” Daphne says. “You’re coming with me, you need to talk that out. I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding, Blaise isn’t the sort of arsehole who would intentionally imply that your identity isn’t valid.”

“Daph, I’m not ready.” 

“You’ll never be ready,” she pointed out. “We’ve got to do this, Theo.” 

He leaned forward and kissed her chastely. “One last time. To signify the end of a farce.” 

Daphne smiled at him. “You’ll always be my best friend, you know that, don’t you?” 

“Yes, likewise,” he said, squeezing her hand a little before he apparated them both to the studio. 

~ * ~ 

When they knocked on the door, Draco answered. He was holding a make-up brush, and he didn’t look surprised in the least. 

“Hi,” he said. “They’re in their rooms. I’m giving my boyfriend a makeover, want to see?” 

“Sure,” Theo said, as Daphne nodded. 

Potter was sitting on the living room floor, his eyes closed. He was surrounded by a plethora of make-up things – palettes, brushes, bottles of glitter and foundation and highlight stuff.

“I don’t have the right brown for his face,” Draco explained. “Blaise’s skin is too dark, and mine and Pansy’s is too fair. So I’m trying to make do with these, by mixing them a little. We’ll need to buy him some stuff of his own.” 

“I’m desi, what did you expect,” Potter said from his position on the floor, his eyes still closed. “For someone as smart as you, Draco, you are actually kind of stupid.” 

“Take that back,” Draco said. “Take that back or I’ll give Daph and Theo ‘Potter Stinks’ badges.”

“In that case, I stand corrected,” Potter said. “Oh, also. I want them to know that I’d prefer it if they called me ‘Harry’, instead of ‘Potter.’ ”

“I’ve been calling you Potter in my head,” Daphne confessed.

“Just as I feared,” he responded, laughing. “Glad we got that sorted.” 

“Right,” Draco said authoritatively. “I’m going to finish this makeover, and you both are going to find your future girlfriend and boyfriend, respectively. Go, be gay.” 

Theo and Daphne exchanged a look. 

“All the best,” Theo murmured.

“Thanks, I need it,” Daphne murmured back. “You too.”

“Merlin, it’s not like you’re writing a test,” Draco groaned. “For Salazar’s sake. Just go, confess your big gay feelings. That’s all there is to wooing. You know where their rooms are?” 

“Of course,” Daphne said. “Thanks for everything, drama queen.” 

Draco flipped her off and she laughed before taking a deep breath, and walking over to Pansy Cordelia Parkinson’s bedroom and knocking on the door.

~ * ~ 

Pansy was lying on her bed wearing a lacy bra and a faded pair of joggers. It shouldn’t have been sexy, but it was Pansy, so of course it was sexy.

“Hi,” Daphne said, sitting at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry I came across as a dick.” 

“Are you,” Pansy said dully, not looking at her, but since she hadn’t used any expletives or hexes, Daphne took that as an invitation to continue. 

“It’s all been very scary for me, my larger-than-life feelings for you and the fear of my parents’ disapproval,” she said, and once she’d started it was like a dam inside her broke and everything just flooded out. “I really meant every word of it. I’ve liked you for a long time but been aware of it only since Eighth year, but I’ve been too afraid to be honest about what I want. But I’m being honest right now. I don’t want to lose you, especially not as a friend. Your friendship is really important to me, but I also think I’m in love with you. And you’re fucking gorgeous, every time I look at you I want to kiss you. Or do more than just kiss you, if you’re open to that.” 

Pansy’s face seemed almost radiant with wonder. “You really mean it.” 

“I really mean it,” Daphne confirmed. 

“I’ve liked you forever,” Pansy said, one of her hands reaching out and tangling in Daphne’s long blonde hair. “You and Draco, you’re the people who made me realise I was bi. I used to think it was ironic, my bisexuality crisis being a gay boy and a straight girl. I thought you were just fucking with me.” 

“I’m not a straight girl,” Daphne said, pressing their foreheads together. “I thought you knew that.” 

Pansy laughed, but it sounded sad. “Well, better late than never, huh?” and with that, she pressed her mouth against Daphne’s. 

~ * ~ 

“We should’ve done this much earlier,” Daphne reflected. 

She was lying in bed with Pansy, her lips swollen, her neck covered in hickeys and her clothes on the floor. Pansy was naked as well, and didn’t seem too bothered by the idle curiosity with which Daphne was tracing patterns along her back and across her stomach. 

“I’m glad we got here,” Pansy said softly, her eyes full of an emotion Daphne couldn’t fully recognize. “It’s okay to take your time. And it’s only 2002, we have so much time ahead of us that we can spend properly.” 

Daphne pulled Pansy to her, holding her in her arms, and Pansy, who always seemed like too much of a bitch to like snuggling, curled up against her like a kitten. She looked practically radiant, as radiant as Daphne felt. From her position on the bed, Daphne could see her joggers on the floor, the word LESBIAN staring at her in the face. 

_I know_ , she thought, closing her eyes and kissing the top of Pansy’s head. She knew, without a doubt, that Theo and Blaise had sorted their drama out as well. She thought of the advice Draco had given her, and how being with Pansy felt good, safe and comforting enough for it to be the only thing she needed. It didn’t matter if her parents disowned her. She’d done what he’d said – she’d chosen love.

**Author's Note:**

> gosh, I have a lot to say but most of it is nonsense so I'm not gonna say it. My tumblr's at gothzabini if you want to talk. 
> 
>  
> 
> Pansy's arse makes me think of the peach emoji each time, sue me


End file.
